How are four very different women with widely varying histories drawn together in the middle of an earthquake in San Francisco? From the beginning, we meet Gemma, a soprano newly arrived to join the Met Opera Company for a stint in the chorus. We also meet Suling, a young woman promised by her opium-addicted uncle to a much-older doctor, who is saving her pennies by doing extra work as an embroiderer to try to make her escape. These two form an unlikely alliance, along with Gemma’s housemate, Alice, a research botanist to uncover a shocking criminal.
Once again, along with Janie Chang, Kate Quinn has created powerful, unusual, and vulnerable characters for us to love. These women I’ve described, along with a fourth – Gemma’s friend, whom she thought she was following to San Francisco, but who seemed to have deserted her for Colorado – all have creative personalities, complicated circumstances, and strong loyalties. And the twisty plot binds them together into an unlikely kinship that enables them to be there for each other until the very climax of the story.
And while the story does fall into that trap of tying the ends up just a bit too neatly, it also feels right to do so in this case.
I really enjoyed this one. I’d love to hear what you all think!
It is summer 2001 and Cecily has been living in NYC for 4 years now. She’s been working for a small newspaper and has made a couple of friends, but her life feels like it’s just been put on hold since her breakup with her boyfriend, Matthew. Since her best friend in the world is still back home in Wisconsin, she feels she needs to get out of her own head, and, leaving her cellphone at her small apartment, she takes herself to a nearby bar, alone. She is truly not looking to meet anyone – it’s far too soon for that – but as it happens, someone does join her at that bar, and they immediately just click. What happens from there begins a journey that takes Cecily through a maze of both lies and truths that she learns she will ultimately have to sort out for herself.
While this story is a bit of a stretch in terms of plausibility, if you’re able to sort of “go with it,” it’s an easy, fun read that is mostly satisfying. I think what saves it is that we really come to like our protagonist, Cecily, even as we suffer her naivete, her blind trust in what those around her tell her. While we can guess what is happening, she doesn’t – and it feels almost like watching an accident that is waiting to happen where you want to yell, “Watch out!!” but cannot. The point is, we do care enough about her to want to yell. (At least I did.)
So while this is not the great American novel, it is a lighter read that broke up some of the more intense novels I’ve read recently. Gotta do that sometimes!
Even though her ex-husband has now passed away, and there is much water under the bridge, she still has difficulty moving past that fateful moment when it felt like her entire life changed: when her youngest child, Toby, suffered a brain injury after being found face-down in their pond for who-knows-how-long. She cannot help but think what would have been had her husband not fallen asleep that day when he was supposed to be ensuring his safety? But as her life unfolds, she begins to learn to appreciate the beautiful person Toby becomes, rather than mourn who he might have been.
This is ultimately a beautiful story, but I feel that it takes unnecessary work to get there. There is quite a bit of repetition, such an unfortunate belaboring of points that the story could have been told in a much more succinct and effective way. Whether it was the writing or the editing – likely a combination of the two – I believe it is a drawback of this book.
Nevertheless, there is a lovely story underneath all this tautology. The unfolding of Toby’s story as told through Eleanor’s perspective is truly meaningful. Many overlook or dismiss Toby because he does not speak or walk or dress the way his peers might; but those who see him for who he is have the honor of getting to know someone who is warm, honest, loyal, and who is the kindest person they will ever know. He pays attention to details that few notice. He sees the potential in folks that others don’t see, appreciating what it is like to not be seen. And he accumulates family, friends, and fans along the way who deeply appreciate who he is.
I believe this book is worthwhile, but you have to be willing to accompany Eleanor, Toby and their extended family on this long journey, even with all its detours and corollaries.
Dani and Alex used to be in love. Dani and Alex used to have the kind of marriage where communication was rarely even necessary because they could read each others’ minds. Now, it seems, that what’s on their minds is that the other is just wrong and they are speeding, headlong into divorce. As they work out the details of this new life with their two boys, they find they may be able to actually communicate on a whole new level.
This is a sweet story that will have you engaged from the very start. It is told from both Dani’s and Alex’s perspective, which deepens our understanding of both how they became a couple and their demise. We empathize with their overtures to connect as well as their despair when they feel defeated. We also hear their attempts to move forward with their lives, and how they are impeded by their deep love for each other.
I will warn that you will experience a major emotional rollercoaster here, as there are sudden twists and unexpected dips that will throw you. Nevertheless, you are well cared for by the author; even when you are grieving, you are handled gently and beautifully.
I liked this book quite a lot – I believe you will as well.
Susan is pretty confident she knows what she likes: she likes order and predictability, she has found a career that suits her skills, and while her childhood has been challenging, she’s even managed to maintain a decent relationship with her complicated family. Nevertheless, when her brother, Edward calls her to tell her that her mom has died, Susan is quite shocked. She knows that her mom has had two strokes, that she’d been a bit out of sorts, but she’d been living solidly on her own, albeit with the inconsistent “help” from her brother Edward. Susan is a realist, though, and understands that this is what happens. What she cannot understand is how her mother could have come up with the terms of her will she is now hearing read, once the funeral is over. Susan is convinced there is foul play and is determined to fight her brother over this – battling again, as they’ve done their whole lives. Only this time, it will be before the eyes of the court. There are just a few complications that may hinder her in the process…
It is hard to believe this is a debut novel, as it is as delightful and entertaining as its characters. Susan’s character, in particular, is one that I believe will stay with me for awhile. While Susan prefers to be alone, she is also a deeply kind person, and though blunt, she is always honest. Sadly, she has learned from life that others can bring pain, so she has built a shell around herself. Much like the cactus, she has grown thorns not to pose a threat to others, but merely to protect herself. But as she gradually begins to let others in – her neighbor, her brother’s friend, even her annoying aunt – she begins to see that it is not always to her detriment.
I would highly recommend this book – it is engaging story, with lovely characters, and your heart will melt for Susan and her predicaments. I look forward to Haywood’s next project!
Hortense and Gilbert, essentially strangers, have made an unusual deal: Hortense has offered to pay Gilbert’s passage from Jamaica to England so that he can pave the way for her to follow him there. She would love to fulfill her dream of becoming a teacher in that faraway, fairytale land, as she perceives it. And for his part, Gilbert, feeling claustrophobic himself on that tiny, Carribean island, he agrees to it, even at the price of marrying this haughty and serious, albeit beautiful, young woman.
On the other side of the world, in London, Queenie and Arthur have had their share of challenges. Queenie has had no choice but to run a boarding house while caring for her father-in-law. Her husband, Arthur, has been MIA since the end of the second WW, after being stationed in India. She is ready to declare him dead and try to move on with her life, but she is quite distracted with all the goings on in her own home, such as it is. Getting flak from her neighbors because of whom she is renting to is frustrating enough, but managing all of their comings and goings isn’t what she’s signed up for either. And now with the advent of Gilbert’s wife to add to the mix. Where will it all lead?
This is a fascinating dive into London’s WWII and post-WWII world, where there remained as much hostility toward anyone who was considered “foreign” as there is today. Anyone of color who moved into a neighborhood was considered to be “taking over,” and White folks complained, moved out, and sought out their own. While Gilbert thought this was purely an American issue, a “Jim Crow” problem, he learned the hard way that it was just as alive and well in England, even if it didn’t have an official name. When Queenie defends sitting with Gilbert in a movie theater, rather than having him seated in the rear, it ends in terrifying violence. Sadly, things haven’t changed much, right???
What is interesting is how the story is told. We learn each of the stories from the perspective of each of these characters: Queenie, Arthur, Hortense and Gilbert. They each have a history, a story to tell. They are each complicated, with their own fears, anxieties, and challenges. Through them we also learn about the tension between the British and its island of Jamaica; that is, how hardly anyone in Britain knew where Jamaica even was, while those in Jamaica were taught to worship the crown as if Buckingham Palace were situated right there on its shores.
While the overall message is clearly heavy, it is told with warmth, wit, and with a Jamaican lilt that gives it just enough lightness to make it enjoyable, surprising, and a worthwhile read.
In the aftermath of a terrifying scenario, Ben, a young boy, is brought to an ER in downtown Providence, where he is seen briefly by senior resident, Lucy, whose main focus is to stabilize patients and send them to wherever they need to go next. While Ben is clearly in shock and does not have any memory of the traumatic incident, he also seems to not even know who he is. As much as Lucy tries to disconnect from Ben, she cannot help being drawn to this sweet, vulnerable child even in spite of herself.
Meanwhile, in a nursing home in a RI suburb, we meet Clare, a woman approaching her 100th birthday, who remains an enigma to all around her. She rarely speaks, and when she does it is never about herself, fending off anything that might give herself away. But it appears that a new tenant, despite her younger age and her independent attitude, might be just the one to break through the hard shell Clare has built around herself.
It takes time and patience to learn how these two stories connect, and once you do, you still need some degree of faith and imagination. Nonetheless, this is a beautiful story, written with such tenderness that you cannot pull away from its pages until the end. Each character, down to the philosophical alcoholic with “worms in his knees” who shows up to the ER on a regular basis, is depicted with love. We adore the awkward, inquisitive Ben, who cannot help asking about the world. We adore Lucy, as she navigates her lonely, newly single life. We even adore Clare, even as she snaps at those around her. Each story is compelling in itself. And as their stories meld together, we are filled with compassion for each of them, because we cannot help but be so.
I suppose I have a particular affinity for this narrative. Since I am from Providence, I love the local references: fishing in Point Judith and Rocky Point, the 3-family houses on the short streets off of Hope Street, or a College Hill book store. Novels are rarely based in Providence, so I appreciate when they are. In addition, the grueling schedule, the span of patients, and the absence of an outside life that Lucy experiences is real – I can attest to that as well. Though I was a pediatric resident a thousand years ago, I can still feel the painful exhaustion I felt coming home after taking care of deathly ill patients for 36 hours straight. I could not have a social life because there was barely time for me to have a life at all.
That said, while the book spoke to me in particular, it will speak to you as well. I encourage you to let yourself be taken away by this tale.
Caleb thinks it will be a usual morning, getting ready for his day on his Amish farm, urging his nephew, Jonah, to get off to the neighbor’s farm to do his part in helping with the chores there. However, when one of the neighbor’s children come running back to alert them to the accident that befalls his nephew, he has no idea that his entire world will be turned upside down in a single moment.
Meanwhile, in central Philly, Reese finds herself in the ER, amidst the incoming trauma where she is a fourth-year student. She is trying not to connect with each patient who comes in, but finding herself connecting nonetheless. She cannot understand how the staff are able to get so involved with the patients for the intensive, momentary care and then send them off, to the OR, to the ICU, or home, without being able to know what comes next. But this is the life she’s chosen. Or has she? Is it not really the life her parents, successful doctors both, have chosen for her, from her very inception? How does she break out from under their domineering force and decide for herself? When she meets Caleb, transfixed by his very different manner and lifestyle, she sees an alternative to the treadmill she’s been living her life on.
While this is a bit of a predictable story, it is so very sweet and the characters so likable that it almost doesn’t matter. Who doesn’t love an unlikely love story? Who can resist a Romeo and Juliet? Reese and Caleb come from two different worlds, speak two different languages, and have very different life experiences. But fundamentally, they have similar values. They appreciate love, family, and the freedom to choose their own path, which binds them together more than even they realize.
The story also highlights something I’ve discussed before: when a community is insular, it can be very close-knit in a good way. It can mean that folks are there for each other in good times and in bad. But it can also mean that folks hide the bad stuff to the point of endangering others. It can mean that when someone is suffering, there is denial in the name of religion or righteousness, and that evil-doers can be protected to a fault. This can be dangerous in any community, but particularly when a community colludes in that hiding, in that burying of the guilt. Abuse of women and children are notoriously hidden in such communities, and this is can be dangerous.
I’d recommend this book, as a way to learn about the Amish, as a way to learn about the way we are all more similar than different, as a way to learn about the world.
Frankie wants to make her parents proud. The idea that women can be heroes too, whispered in her ear by her brother’s friend, has never occurred to her before, but when it is uttered, it hits her like a breath of fresh air. What better way to make her father, especially, proud than to join his “wall of heroes” by enlisting and serving her country as an army nurse in Vietnam? What she finds, as she disembarks from that first plane, is nothing like she’d ever imagined. And what she encounters there, whether she likes it or not, will stay with her for the rest of her life.
Here is yet another MUST READ, gifted to us from Kristin Hannah. It is not an easy one. It is harsh but realistic in its graphic detail of the horrors of the Vietnam war. It is a constant reminder, again and again, of what is lost in each and every battle. It also is historically and acutely accurate in its documentation of how horrifically veterans of this war were treated upon return to their country after their service, as if it were their choice to continue the war that most were drafted to serve in. More importantly, for this story, it documents how horrifically the WOMEN veterans of the war were treated. These women were denied their very existence there. Frankie was told, again and again, “There were no women in Vietnam,” when in fact, there were thousands of women in Vietnam – nurses, and support staff – serving their country, endangering their lives, and witnessing the trauma every day of their lives there.
Is the story all doom and gloom? No, of course not. It is also a story about love. Frankie finds so many versions of love. She finds beautiful friendships that last her lifetime. She opens her heart enough to have it broken time and again, which hurts but also helps her to grow. She also learns to appreciate that love can be demonstrated in many ways, even if it is not how we’d prefer. Frankie also learns to love herself, as she succeeds and fails and succeeds again.
It is an inspiring, gruesome, and heartwarming saga of a woman’s search for meaning and for herself. It is hard – perhaps impossible – not to love this book.
No matter the weather, Arthur can be found every day at lunchtime by his wife’s grave, speaking to her, almost as if she’s still there with him. There are others whom he visits there as well, feeling a sense of who they might have been. And one might think this strange, but Maddie doesn’t. She, too, comes to the cemetery at lunchtime, but she comes not to seek out, but to avoid. Once Arthur and Maddie find each other in this unusual place, however, their worlds become a bit less lonely.
For those of you who loved A Man Called Ove as I did, you will likely love this as well. The friendship that evolves between the elderly Arthur and the young Maddie is as endearing as it is unexpected. Arthur, in his openness and generosity, defies all stereotypes of his generation. He seems, rather, to have learned through his life experience, through his disappointments and treasured memories, that we must appreciate what we have and the good individuals we are lucky enough to encounter. Likewise, Maddie also defies what we might expect of an outwardly rebellious adolescent. She is merely hurting, and is deeply in need of love.
The writing is both sparse and deep. It feels as if each word and its placement is chosen with care; that every sentence is built not only with intellect but with heart. I felt myself cycle through smiling, giggling, and getting choked up, as I moved from line to line, from chapter to chapter.
Just try to read this one and not feel anything. Just try to read this and not fall in love with these characters. I dare you! I believe this is a MUST READ!
kindread spirits 